Ten Years From Now
by Comprimise-Lover
Summary: The RATs ten years from now.


Future of the Death Giver

"Stay back! I warn you, I have a gun!" An adult male cried, backing up until his black suit touched his desk in the messy office.

"Stay back…? Stay back?!" The younger man repeated, an obvious anger in his voice rising. He reached out and took the pale man's gun, twisting it to the side with such great force the end of the long rifle bent!

Only a fool wouldn't realize the younger of the two, dark skinned and long, long braided hair was Dustin. Dustin had grown since his younger years to become a mighty fine looking twenty-five year old. Time had not worn his memories, though, his face had become dull as a void and eyes icy as dead flesh that he'd felt to many times.

Terrified, a small whimper came from the man in his late thirties, raising his arms for protection. The small lamp that kept the room lit was knocked off the paper-filled insurance desk of the lawyer working at an insurance company since his firing.

The window was the only source of light, letting only the dreadful blue sky leave a dreary marking on the place as Dustin took a step closer, removing one of his hand guns from a long black cloak he held ever so dear, for it protected him.

Remember; he killed to protect, harmed to help.

The one shot never missed, and he never wasted a bullet.

The white man slept an endless sleep, never to wake from that day on, sprawled out on his own stained carpet. He had gotten what he deserved.

"You killed off so many kids for the money you had made. It wasn't worth it." Dustin mumbled, not even glancing as he pulled himself through the window without a fingerprint to worry about. His gloves were made of think leather, not easily breathable in.

"Why man? Why?"

---

That after noon, as he left a nearby shop with a sweet smile, he sauntered down the street. His dark attire matched the cloudy day as he stepped carefully through the metal spiked gates of the Butterfield Cemetery. The place he had spent so close to for many of many years.

The burial ground was sacred to him, but not as special as the two foot tall angle stone covered in moss near the back. A vase sat neatly on the side of the stone labeled as "Jessica Morriz". Inside the decorative vase lay several bright yellow roses.

Dustin gingerly placed one new yellow rose into the vase, whispering a sweet good-bye before departing his dead lover.

Who knew he'd end up killing off the Population Control members from back when he was a child all the way to the newest members who were murdering the young children of today.

Future of the Weak Soul

Shining bright in the sky, the sun nearly blinded Nicholas as he walked into his house, just outside the large farm area. He had been working in the field for hours that very morning, and had his body stained nearly head to toe in dirt, mud spread on his cheeks and forehead like butter.

As walking into the small farm house tile kitchen floor, he tracked mud all over the ground and placed his dirty brown gloves on the clean table. Everything was quite nice and blue and white-ish in the small kitchen, except for the dirt Nick had left everywhere.

"Nick!" Another voice shrieked, sending shills down Nick's spine as he tried to escape up the old wooden stairs without much success. "Nicholas! What have you _done?_!" The twenty seven year old shouted, racing up he stairs after Nick.

Nick bit his lip, rushing away from the man merely two years older than he.

"Nicholas!" Cody repeated, reaching Nick just in time. A second later and Nick would've disappeared into a bedroom and locked the door! He wrapped his arms around the younger Man's waist, pulling him back down the stairs.

Poor Nick struggled as he was dragged back down the stairs to the kitchen, but couldn't do much. He wasn't going to hurt his lover. Even if he was sat in a chair by Cody, near ready to be yelled at for all the dirt.

"Nick, Nick, Nick! Look what you've done! You've tracked mud all over my clean kitchen floor! Do you have any idea how long and hard it takes to clean this? I tell you to at least take off your shoes at the door, is that too hard? Come on, Nick, how could you do this?!" Cody shouted, over and over again, yelling many other things at his partner. Well, yeah, of course he was angry.

Nick bowed his head, knowing he was in trouble. He'd done something he shouldn't have, and being a good fellow he was he stayed sitting and went through with the yelling. Of course, Nick was smart enough to know Cody would never go through this long with being angry at Nick. And Nick knew this well.

And as expected, Cody stopped himself, leaning against the counter so he still faced Nick and he brought his hands up to cover his face. "Look, Nick, I know what you're doing. Don't make me yell at you, you are not getting away with it this time!" Cody came back over to Nick, placing his hands firmly on the other man's shoulders to move him closer. "Nick, you will have to clean the mess up. Take a step in my shoes for a day." His voice had been hard and worn from time, but his body had fresh flavor.

"Daddy...! Daddy!" A tiny voice interrupted as a toddler ran down the wooden stairs. A little boy, maybe about four years of age, slowly taking each step to make sure his small body did not fall.

Both adults turned to look at their adopted child, Leslie. The little boy had the cutest curly red hair and light skin around his beautiful green eyes. Their little boy had grown so much in the past years. They couldn't help but care for the little boy. Honestly, life couldn't be better.

Future of the Loud Mouth

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!! The familiar school bell rang for what seemed forever as each kid raced out the door on their way to a friend to walk home with, or plot with on a bus or in a car. The teacher of these wild third graders, Miss James, leaned down into her chair, working on grading several papers she might as well stamp each with a large, red F. Geez, who knew third graders could be so rough?

"Hey, my little song-bird." A tall dark man, with that sexy body you'd see but never actually get, walked in on the short-haired Mexican teacher with a spunky attitude. Oh gee, the janitor-closet-couple! The talk of the teachers lounge! The math career and health teacher both together, a little something they both knew they shouldn't have but did anyways.

"Hey Sam,"

The rough many years since she'd last been with the rest of the RAT's had slipped by to quickly, but had done no damage to her voice which kept its same Nina essence everywhere it went.

"Saturday night still sound good?" she added, looking up from her work. Her short-boy-ish hair flying back adorably in the man's eyes.

The man could only give a simple smile, "What other day to celebrate our 15 month anniversary, and we're still hot with the other teachers." He teased, more to say that he was good with her. …Good enough for things to be said and spread.

Oh, wow, now _that's_ something to be proud of!

"Alrighty, Sam, let's get out of this stuffy room. No wonder the kids hate it." Nina, Miss James told him.

The married couple walked out of the building with grins and sparkles in their eyes.

"Speaking of kids… how's our little baby doin'?" The man asked his wife, rubbing the large round lump in his wife's stomach known better to them as their first child; Samantha. She was due in a few weeks and even her students were proud and happy. Who wouldn't be exited, hoping for such a beautiful baby? But, oh, what a change they would get.

However, it would be worth it.

Future of the Silent Reaper

The oceans of Hawaii rose and fell in huge waves, crashing down upon the shore with the slightest of ease, moving the white sand in a mass of rivers in one big sea. The lifeguard was so close she could feel the ocean mist on her cheeks.

The water gave a slight glimmer on her one-piece swim suit required as a uniform with the whistle around her neck. The sound of the waves and children's laughter, the open big blue sky usually cloudless and the orange and pink sunset each noon were all just an added bonus with her job; saving lives.

"Life guard! Life guard! Look! Someone is going under!!"

At the moment, she urgently got prepared with a life-saver and put her whistle aside and ran down the beach.

Sand got in her nose and swim suit, and water brushed against her sun-tanner face and through silky blonde hair. The water rushed against her, as if trying to take another soul in for its own, but it was no match for her superiority.

Like Moses, she spread her arms and let the water spread side to side as well, creating a small useable stream, and she pushed herself to the young child, putting the life-saver around him and bringing him to shore. Nobody knew of the life-guards unspeakable talent, except for, the RATs.

But why would they bother to remember her, Sarah Thompson?

Sarah brought the child to her mother, smiling as a small crowd gave her a small applause for what she did several times each day. What a pity, if only they were safer than this. Some of the younger children even came for her advice and help as much as their own parents and even grand parents to seek a better way of living on this beach.

Who knew she could make such a difference in this small world.

---

When she returned to her ocean- side house she knelt down beside a rectangular stone and put her forehead to the top. She blessed the stone and this insanely grave for her departed husband; one who drowned but she could not get to in time. No, no, times were never so rough that she could not save her own loved one, but she cherished every waking memory as she stepped inside her house to greet her eleven year old daughter; Jamie Lynn.

Future of the Loving Mother

"Another long day in that cell, eh?"

"Yes."

"You know you got there because you did something wrong, yes?"

"Duh."

"You understand the crime?"

"Murder, assault, running two red lights and offending police officers."

"Don't forget- "

"I know, I know!" The twenty-eight year old male yelled, standing up. His hair was all tangled in a mess that fell in front of his wild eyes. He stood up, obviously angered.

The female never even flinched, but merely stood up and left the room. On her police uniform was a little tag in a corner that read, "Lucy C." , but everything still complimented her figure, who was quite exceptional for a twenty-six year old woman.

As Lucy walked out of the building she couldn't help but remember older days with that same prisoner; for the prisoner she had interviewed was Daniel. He'd been such a great guy… before she left the village she had once lived in. But, sadly, when they met up again when she was 16 he was not the same. And had only gotten worse over the years…

But now, she could protect others, and put away with those wishing to harm. Her motherly instinct had never left.

However, each new boyfriend along the way had.


End file.
